Page 14 of Poinsettia Lane

“I mean, I wouldn’t put it that way exactly,” Everly tries to defend herself, but she can hardly get a sentence in around Frankie’s excitement.

“No, I’m right. Addison is right. You want him, and the only lead we have is the greenhouse. I think you should do it.”

“You don’t think it’s a bit creepy?” Everly really thinks their idea is dangerously close to stalking.

Frankie leans forward and grabs Everly’s hand in theirs.

“Everly Anne Moore. You are not a stalker.” Frankie says in their most serious voice. “You’re desperate.”

Everly can’t hold in the surprised, snorting laugh that comes out of her mouth, and Frankie beams. They’re proud, as usual, for being obnoxious. And also right.

“For real though,” her friend says, squeezing her hand in emphasis, “didn’t your therapist tell you to prioritize yourself? Aren’t you supposed to be working on being your true self and taking risks or some such thing?”

They’re right again. She is supposed to be doing that. With a sigh and a flutter of excited nerves in her chest, Everly gives in.

She’s going to Magnolia Nursery.

CHAPTER SIX

IT’S POSSIBLE, EVEN probable, that Everly is procrastinating. She chooses to live in denial though, and blames it on Carrie, which she also recognizes is entirely delusional and for that reason she has no intention of telling her therapist anything about this thought process and decision making strategy.

She spends New Year’s Day cleaning, attempting to relax, and mentally preparing, so when she wakes up the day after, she’s ready. Everly made a list last night, obviously, and she woke up prepared to take names and kick butts. Or, make friends, rather.

First item on her list: practice.

Last session, Carrie said to focus on being herself. Everly isn’t entirely sure what that means, so before she does it in a big way that truly matters with someone she wants to like her, she figures practicing around others would be a good first step. She’s convinced herself that practice, consisting of spending time in places she isn’t used to and talking to people she doesn’t really know, will help. Starting at some of the local businesses.

She drives the short distance downtown instead of walking, then parks in the downtown lot rather than at the hotel, even though it’s close. This way she has easier access to the other shops in the area and can run back to the car to drop things off if needed. Very practical.

So Everly sets off with a pep in her step. She chose her style and outfit carefully today; she doesn’t want to put anyone off, so she went for a look that she thinks says “I’m approachable and easy going, but alsosophisticated, and I have a sense of humor”. Basically business casual, but that sounds way too boring in her head. She’s rocking a comfy cream sweater, which she feels really makes her dark hair and eyes pop, tucked into a high waisted, herringbone-patterned skirt that hits just under mid-thigh. Her bright red stilettos add a pop of color, matching the red bag she has slung over her shoulder.

Fun, sophisticated, easy going and approachable. Nailed it.

Wandering into the local handmade shop, filled with all sorts of cute stuff from knitted hats for babies to gorgeous stained glass wind chimes, a little embroidered hoop catches her eye. It has a picture of a cheesy smiling lasagna getting stabbed with a knife and fork on it, that says “I’m feeling lasagnabout it” around the edges in bold lettering. Everly suspects it’s a pun, but she has no clue what it’s supposed to mean. It’s cute though, so she picks it up as a little souvenir for Addison when she comes back to visit next time. Maybe she’ll be able to decipher it.

Apart from the lady working the cash register who clearly has no interest in small talk this morning, there’s no one else in the little shop, so Everly meanders her way down the block, popping in and out of each shop or business she comes across, but not having much luck on the socializing part of her goal.

She swears there are normally people outside laughing and chatting, sometimes even yelling down the street to one another. Of course whenshe’strying to be social though, everyone disappears.

Pursing her lips, Everly turns her feet toward the last stop of the morning, the candy shop. It’s just opened for the day and smells divine. Sugary fuel is just what she needs to propel her into a more successful afternoon. Everly is wandering around inside, admiring the beautiful artistry of the truffles and candies under the counter, when she glances out the candy shop windows, almost like something pulled her eyes that direction. She sees someone walking into the local hardware store across the street, and a tingle shoots down her spine, a burst of adrenaline straight to her stuttering heart.

It’s him.

Hot Delivery Guy just walked into the hardware store. Asim is right across the street.

Everly immediately panics. Her heart beats a frantic rhythm as it tries to escape her chest, probably to go tearing across the street after him. Her thoughts spiral and she can’t help but ask herself what she should do. Does she go in after him? Is that crazy? She was going to go to his work anyways, but if she can maneuver a happenstance run-in with him instead, that’s much further away from the domain of a stalker. She could go in and pretend to shop around for… well, she’s never been in a hardware store before. What does one buy there? Rope? That seems likely, but what would she do with rope?! Is she planning on tying him up or something? Actually… her brain tells her that doesn’t sound so bad as far as ideas go. Even better, maybe he could tie her up…

Everly gives herself a violent, full body shake, scolding herself soundly in her head. Objectifying others isnotwhat she is about. Yes, he’s attractive, but come on Everly. Get your head out of the gutter, andthink. There’s got to be a reasonable way to make this happen.

After internally freaking out while staring with unseeing eyes at the assortment of candies under the counter, she belatedly realizes the sales person has been waiting for her to make a decision. Everly snaps to and requests a few of her favorite salted caramels, then decides to make a run for it (“coward!” Frankie’s voice screams in the back of her head). Decision made, she pushes her way out the door while popping two of the sugary, salty squares into her mouth, and—

Asim steps out of the hardware store right across from her at the same moment. Their eyes connect, cementing her feet to the sidewalk. He’s carrying a cloth bag, because of course he has reusable bags, but she can’t see what’s in it.

His face lights up and he glances both directions, checking the road before he starts walking toward her, which makes Everly realize she hasn’t moved an inch, maybe not even blinked, and is just staring at him. She frantically chews, slurping up some drool before it canfall out of her mouth, and questions why on earth she thought eating two candies at once was a good idea. Or caramel itself. Caramel is never a good idea. Caramel is impossible to eat!

He makes it across the street and is only a few feet from her when his rich, clear voice makes her knees want to tremble.

“Well hello there,” Asim says, still smiling at her as his deep voice seeps under her skin and sets her nerves on fire.

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